


centre

by AnimeDomo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, Galaxy Garrison, Hero Worship, M/M, Matt's a little shit, Slow Burn, Stargazing, shiro needs an adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 21:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13199097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeDomo/pseuds/AnimeDomo
Summary: A lot of people believe in, rely on, and have placed their faith in Takashi Shirogane.Shiro will always be the first to admit that he has no idea what he's doing.[or: Shiro has a mid-life crisis and a mouthy cadet with a penchant for rule breaking is his savior]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking a lot of liberties with this but I'm also enjoying writing it so?? I hope someone else can get some enjoyment out of this mess as well.
> 
> I feel like we all need someone to knee us in the stomach and remind us of what's important sometimes.
> 
> listening; [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v= C6Cn9Em8FGA, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v= GfyT56_kmTE]
> 
> come scream at me on Twitter @grumpygamernisa

As a child in the Japanese countryside, Takashi Shirogane had laid in the family backyard on an old quilt his oba-chan had made and counted the stars. There were so many; beautiful cosmic paintings that called him, heart and soul. Basking in the glow of a heavy moon and an endless universe stretching beyond his horizons, he knew where he was supposed to be. It was the only thing in life he was sure of. His heart sung for the distant lights, and he simply knew he needed to be among them.

At the age of twenty-three Takashi Shirogane found himself in one of the Garrison study lounges at 0100, surrounded by ungraded tests from FT2340 and stale cups of coffee and his own repressed dreams. The large window to his left gave a nicely framed view of the distant desert, starry sky and all. But his heart strings did not tug, his soul did not reach for them. All he could think of was deadlines, instructor expectations, test dates. His love of the galaxy had been leeched from him by overflowing calendars and stern men with badges and an early promotion that gave him an instructors uniform with higher expectations.

Maybe some fresh coffee would get him back on track.

Shiro hauled himself from his seat with an exhausted sigh, abandoning his work splayed across the table to locate the only coffee pot this side of the barracks. As he was pouring the lukewarm sludge into a new paper cup, he caught the sound of a door sliding open and the scuffle of quick booted feet. Shiro, intrigued at who else would be up at such an hour, peered down the corridor in time to catch a figure strolling towards the west wing.

Shiro set his cup to the side. “These new cadets are going to be the death of me.”

As a senior on the cusp of making officer within the Garrison ranks, it wouldn’t exactly have been wise to allow a cadet wander around at such an hour. If anyone else caught the kid, they’d likely suspend them. Shiro reasoned he was doing the cadet a favor by following them down the darkened barrack hall and through an exit door to a flight of stairs. Whoever it was booked it up the last three flights to the very top and shoved their way through the rusty roof door. Shiro wasn’t sure what made him hesitate on calling out to the person, but he supposed it was a small spark of curiosity that led him to the roof with this nameless stranger.

At the sound of the door creaking open, years of rust grating over each other in the dead silence of the desert night, the cadet whipped their head up from where they’d been hovering at the roof’s edge, face turned towards the desert.

“It’s nearly 0200. All cadets should be in their room assignments.” Shiro stepped forward and let the door fall shut behind him. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly planning on sitting up here and having a cup of tea with the kid.

He wasn’t surprised to find that the cadet was a young boy, probably a fresh-faced recruit barely fit into his uniform. It was hard to see him clearly in the roof’s shadows, but the stars and heavy waxing gibbous cast enough of a silvery glow to show his dark hair and sharp, young features. He was scowling, but Shiro read it as more confused than anything. He obviously hadn’t intended for anyone to catch him, or at least he hadn’t thought this far when he planned to slip out.

Shiro considered how sure of a path the kid had made as he wound his way through the stairwell. “Have you been up here before?”

The kid still didn’t answer. Shiro stared at the boy’s mistrustful frown as he gingerly picked up his bag. He moved cautiously, as though afraid Shiro would strike him. Shiro himself couldn’t hide his curiosity as he asked, “Why are you up here?”

The kid shuffled his feet, shifting his weight around like a nervous habit. He shouldered his bag in preparation of being led back down. “Fresh air helps me think.”

“You should be asleep.” Shiro felt like he was chiding one of the children he used to babysit back home in the Hyogo prefecture. The kid cut him a look.

“So should you, sir.”

Shiro, interest piqued by the off-color comment and the almost petulant tone, met the cadet at the roof’s edge where the thick metal baring lined the building. It had seen better days, but the roof was used as an observation deck for researchers, and the metal fencing served its purpose of protecting equipment well enough.

“What are you really doing up here?”

“I told you. Look, if you’re gonna write me up for breaking code, just do it already.”

Shiro’s gazed flickered towards the sky, and he took a chance. “Did you come up here to look at the stars?”

The cadet fell silent, and Shiro knew he was waiting for him to continue. There was a right answer here, but Shiro didn’t want to fight him for it. The bone-deep exhaustion Shiro had been hauling around like a wounded companion for months suddenly came to a head, and he let himself sag to the cold pavement and swing his legs over the side.

“There’s something about finding a little bubble outside of the ordinary and watching the stars. Thinking about how vast the galaxy is, how we can’t even begin to comprehend it.” Shiro spoke, letting the words fall without really thinking about them. In truth, Shiro should have just taken the kid’s ID number and reported him. Or sent him back downstairs at least. That’s what Iverson would want, would expect, him to do. But the cadet quietly settled himself a few feet away from Shiro, throwing his legs over the side of the building, and cast his gaze silently upward – and Shiro knew he wasn’t going to do either of those things. He wasn’t really here as an authority figure, he knew, but maybe rather as just another wandering soul looking for answers in a map older than humanity itself.

“Whenever I was upset or anxious, I’d go lay outside and just watch the stars for hours. It always calmed me down. The sky just felt like home.”

Shiro chanced a glance to the side and saw the kid staring, wide-eyed and completely smitten, at the starry desert sky. It was a look Shiro knew all too well. Part of him wished he could still find that love, that over-bearing draw to the unknown that had given him purpose for so many years. He missed being in love with the galaxy, he missed feeling alive under a spring constellation.

“Why are you telling me this?” The cadet’s voice was hushed, raspy, as though he was afraid of interrupting. Shiro mulled the question over for a moment.

“Just rambling, I suppose. But I also haven’t slept in a few days trying to get these assignments graded for Iverson and my diet has primarily consisted of coffee and the occasional protein bar, so I’m willing to admit I might just be delusional.”

The cadet almost smiled, but quickly wiped the look from his face when he glanced towards Shiro and realized the senior cadet was watching him.

“You’re an instructor.” He said. He was eyeing the dark green uniform Shiro had forgotten to change out of after classes ended. Shiro noticed that the cadet was in casual clothing, loose pants and a soft sweater to keep out the desert chill. The realization made Shiro feel slightly robotic; as if he didn’t exist outside of his uniform.

“Kind of.” Shiro lifted one knee with a groan, and settled his elbow on the bent limb. The kid was still watching him, so Shiro tried to grin at the sickening pop of his hip. His eyes burned. “I’m getting old.”

“What are you, a senior cadet then?” Shiro nodded and gently hummed. “Why the instructor’s uniform?”

“I’ve been told Iverson and Cassic expect great things from me.” Shiro knew he sounded bitter, so he turned his eyes back to the early autumn sky and pressed his lips into what he hoped seemed to be a nonchalant smile.

“You don’t sound happy at that,” the cadet pressed.

Shiro shrugged. He wasn’t about to divulge his mid-life crisis to some first year cadet he’d just caught sneaking out after hours like a moody teenager. “Sometimes I miss doing the things I love because I love them. You don’t really get to fly when you’re the one teaching other’s how to fly.”

“A pilot, then.” The cadet hummed as though Shiro had just given him a very important answer. Shiro didn’t know what to say to that, so he let the statement fall into the darkness and settle there between them. The cadet didn’t seem the chatty-type anyway, and Shiro could appreciate someone who wasn’t talking at him every moment he was conscious. A long moment passed. Then, “I am, too.”

Shiro craned his neck to meet the kid’s eyes. He wondered how long he’d been staring before Shiro noticed. He wondered what he saw when he looked at Shiro. The silence prompted the cadet to explain.

“A pilot. I’m in the flight program.”

Something in Shiro’s heart warmed. There was something so familiar about this young man with the dark eyes that stared at the sky like it was his one true love. Shiro felt hopeful for the aspiring pilot that hadn’t yet had that spark taken from him. Something inside Shiro wanted to protect this cadet, but he wasn’t even entirely sure what from. Bureaucracy? Paperwork? A 401K?

“Not for long if any of the instructors on duty catch you up here. C’mon.” Shiro hauled himself to his feet. The kid hesitantly followed, his movements light and graceful in a way Shiro kind of envied. The two trailed to the door, Shiro propping it open with the toe of his boot for the cadet to enter the stairwell ahead of him.

The cadet descended the first flight of stairs slowly, Shiro trailing close behind. “Aren’t you going to take my ID number?”

Shiro stuffed his hands in the pockets of his uniform trousers and smiled wryly. “Nah.”

The kid stopped and turned to look at him. The ‘why’ was silent.

“How will I be helping you by reporting you for something like wanting to sit on the roof to clear your head a little? This place is a lot. It can be overwhelming, I get that.”

The kid was still standing frozen on the last few steps, that mistrustful scowl back in place. He probably thought Shiro was going to run his mouth the second he was out of earshot. Shiro stepped past him and held open the door to the kid’s floor. The scowl deepened.

“How’d you know which floor was mine?” It was less of a question and more of a demand for information. Typically, Shiro would have been put off by such a disrespectful tone from a cadet, but with this kid he felt unbothered. He knew there was more here than just an authority issue; he could see it in the way the kid assessed him from the stairs, in the way he carried himself as if always ready for a fight.

“Relax. I use this floor’s lounge for late night work sometimes. I was grabbing coffee when I heard you take off.”

“Wrong place wrong time,” the cadet muttered as he passed.

“Or right place and time,” Shiro countered. They stopped a few doors down, the cadet looking bashful at an upper rank having to walk him to his door. “Don’t make this a habit. Other instructors may not let you off if you get caught again.”

The cadet stared down at his boots. “Yes, sir.”

Shiro thrust his hand into the kid’s irritated line of sight, and made the boy jump. He stared at Shiro quizzically for a strange, long moment before sliding his hand awkwardly into Shiro’s for a very stiff handshake. 

“My name’s Takashi Shirogane. If you ever need anything, come find me.”

“Wait, Shirogane? As in ‘Shiro’, Shirogane?”

Desperate to change the subject from himself, Shiro turned his grimace at the cadet’s wide-eyed stare into a casual grin and hoped he’d take the bait. “Well, I already know who I am. But what’s your name, cadet?”

“Ah.” The kid pulled his hand back, shuffling his feet again. Shiro wondered if it really was a nervous habit. If Shiro thought the cadet had been closed-off before, those had just been floodwalls to keep the curious at bay. At connecting whatever dots of information he’d heard about Shiro, the kid threw up stone walls that brushed the stratosphere, and his expression went unrecognizable. “Kogane. Keith.”

“Keith.” The name felt strange, but Shiro smiled anyway. He felt the young pilot needed it. “I hope to be seeing you around, then.”

Keith nodded stiffly and kept his eyes to the floor. His lips were pressed into a thin line and Shiro wanted nothing more than to understand what had suddenly boxed the boy in when they had spoken so candidly only mere minutes before. Keith was tense, almost looking overwhelmed and scared, and the idea that giving his name alone was enough to pull such a reaction from someone made Shiro want to bounce his head off the Garrison brick.

“Yes, sir.”

Keith keyed the door open, darting inside and disappearing. Shiro spent the next thirty-seven minutes struggling to focus on the stack of ungraded tests he’d been working through, but his mind kept wandering to the rusty rooftop door. He retired to his own room a few hours before sunrise after adding “buy WD-40 and sandpaper” to his to-do list.

-

Shiro had been very intently reading a scrawled equation for eccentricity when two palms drummed out a beat on the desk he was working on and nearly sent him flying from his chair.

Shiro glared between the coffee he’d sloshed all over his pens when he’d jumped and his best friend grinning in front of him from the other side of his work space. Matt seemed very pleased at Shiro’s irritation.

A cadet quickly nearing senior ranking with his astounding lab work next to his father, Shiro’s closest friend Matthew Holt was a little bit of a genius with a bit of a delinquent streak. Shiro loved him to pieces, would trust him with nearly anything, but was highly considering his death at that moment.

“Saturday, what are you up to?” Matt demanded, drumming his palms on the desk again. Shiro gestured down at the stacks of papers he was slowly working his way through with his red pen.

“The same thing I’ve been doing all week,” Shiro sighed.

Matt’s shoulders slumped. He was actually pouting. “I feel like you’ve been grading papers for Iverson for two months straight now. Are his classes just tests? Do you even have time to shit or shower at this point?” Matt picked up a graded assignment and shook it at Shiro in agitation. Shiro snatched it back with raised eyebrows.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Just two hours of your Saturday night.” Matt threw up two fingers in demonstration, leaning forward to make sure that Shiro could really get the full effect of his sad eyes. “You can’t tell me you’re going to be grading wormhole theory quizzes or whatever the hell pilots get tested on at 2300 on a Saturday.”

“The real question is what do you need me for at 2300 on a Saturday.”

“What, am I supposed to go do Jaeger bombs in a bar over in town by myself?”

Shiro peered at him over the edge of a paper. “You want me because I actually own a vehicle.”

“That too.” Matt nodded enthusiastically.

Iverson entered the lounge, looking far too awake and intimidating at such an early hour, and strode past Shiro’s little desk camp towards his own office. 

“Shirogane, my office if you would. Cadet Holt. Nice to see you’re still holding up after the mid-quarter crunch. How is Dr. Holt?”

“Doing well, sir. Extraterrestrial soil deposits can only drive him insane for so long.” Matt saluted the Commander, and Iverson nodded as Shiro scrambled to gather up all his things. When Iverson turned away, Matt gestured threateningly between Shiro and himself, mouthing “Saturday” to drive his point home.

“I’ll try,” Shiro whispered. Matt wandered out of the lounge for his first class and Shiro shouldered his bag to follow Iverson into his office. His office was much like Iverson himself; neat, simple, to the point. There were no extra decorations or wall hangings to give any glimpse of insight into Iverson himself. The only clue that perhaps Iverson wasn’t actually a Garrison robot was a photo of a pretty blonde girl grinning over Iverson’s standard-issue paper weight and meticulously organized file holder. No one so far had the gall to ask who she was.

Iverson took his seat behind the overly-organized desk and began tapping away on his computer, the monitor faced away from Shiro as he dropped into the seat across from him. Shiro tried imagining himself working behind a desk in a beige corner office and being assigned an instructor’s log-in. The thought alone made him exhausted.

Iverson turned away from his monitor to look at Shiro. “I’ve pulled a lot of strings with the Brass to get you promoted early, because I’ve felt you’ve earned it. You’re talented. Your scores are promising. There’s no issue there.”

Shiro knew he should have expected Iverson to jump straight into it with no preamble but he still found himself jarred as all of the man’s attention was suddenly shifted to him. He didn’t quite feel like he was a part of the world at the moment, as if he’d wake to his alarm blaring Def Leopard any second and he’d have to drag himself out of bed all over again. He probably should work on setting a better sleep schedule.

“But the Brass wants proof that you’re capable of leading cadets. So far you’ve only been assisting me with classes – basic things like grading and organizing lecture material in off-hours.”

“What, do they want me to teach a class?” Shiro caught Iverson’s strange look and felt as though he aged ten years in one moment. “You can’t be serious.”

Iverson was still staring at him strangely, but shook his head. Shiro almost threw himself back in his chair out of sheer relief, but he didn’t want Iverson to think he’d completely lost it.

“No, but they want you to mentor one of the new FP cadets. Give reports on your meetings and progress. Show them that you can be who they need you to be. Being a teacher is one thing, but to lead is something different.” Iverson leaned back in his chair as if he’d just said something incredibly profound but Shiro wasn’t sure how giving a year one cadet homework tips would count as leadership skills to the upper brass. He kept this line of skepticism to himself, however. He knew a privilege when he saw one. He was being tested, but it wasn’t a test many received.

“Am I being assigned someone?”

“No word on that yet. Perhaps they’ll let you choose. Did you have anyone in mind?”

Shiro thought about rusty doors and a soft black sweater. He tried to pretend the answer hadn’t come to him so easily. “Not particularly. I haven’t been able to meet many of this year’s recruits.”

“Keep an ear open. I’ll keep in contact, and let you know if Cassic decides anything. She may not even give you an assignment until next quarter.”

Shiro nodded along, but his head felt heavy. How could he help guide the new generation of explorers if he himself had no clue what the fuck he was doing. He’d let the bureaucracy of the Garrison sweep him along like a river current, and he had no idea what he wanted anymore. He’d become complacent in his dreams to appease the wants of his betters, and look where it led him. He couldn’t remember the last time he did a flight sim or an aerial test or anything that wasn’t pushing files from one office to another.  
“Thank you, sir, for everything you’ve done for me. I appreciate it.”

Iverson’s attention turned to a spread of papers on his desk. “I don’t give handouts, Shirogane. Hard work is what moves you up in the Garrison. Don’t start slacking now.”  
Shiro nodded again, smiling as wide as he could with the icepick headache that had begun in his left temple. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He wished he could be happy with this.

-

It was 0230 the next morning when he set down the final quiz for Iverson’s second section of Flight Theory. The huge red “63” he had scrawled across the front and circled would probably make some cadet cry tomorrow morning, but right now all it meant to Shiro was that he could finally grab a shower and go to bed. He leaned back, listening to his spine pop three times, before jamming the entire stack of quizzes into his bag and standing to leave.

The floor was completely empty of instructors, guards, and mischievous cadets alike. The silence was nice. The heavy metal door of the exit fell shut behind him, deafening with the echo of the stairway, and he began to descend the first flight. 

He only made it two concrete steps before he stopped, gazing upwards where the higher levels curled up to the ceiling out of view. It was dark, and it was late, and Shiro knew he had no business going up there. He had another meeting with Iverson tomorrow morning and there were still lecture materials to help organize for Iverson’s Intel section and if he skips his morning run for an extra 30 minutes of sleep one more time he was really going to regret it in PT – 

It was colder than the last time he’d been up on the roof with the flight cadet, Kogane. The desert leeched all the heat the sun had left behind and the breeze was sharp tonight. He’d spent a Wednesday afternoon scrubbing at the rust that had curled over the door hinges like vines till it swung open without giving him a headache. Even still, the door stirred the perfect silence of the rooftop and the shadow of a figure sitting on the edge jumped.

Shiro wanted to be disappointed to find the cadet breaking the lights out policy again, but even if his heart had been into it he wouldn’t have had the energy. He joined the boy on the edge of the building, this time simply leaning over and resting his arms on the metal bars. He’d been sitting enough today.

Shiro glanced down to make sure he hadn’t just terrified some random kid, but sure enough it was Keith’s skittish profile staring out into the desert horizon like Shiro didn’t exist. His eyes weren’t quite trained on anything and his hands were hidden in the front pocket of a worn NASA hoodie. There was a notebook open next to him, but it was too dark for Shiro to read what was on it.

Neither of them said a word. Maybe with anyone else on the planet Shiro would have felt awkward. Or like something was expected of him – to instill some bullshit wisdom, or be a good senior cadet and chide Kogane for breaking rules, or make some inane small talk. But Shiro knew this kid didn’t give a shit, he didn’t want anything from Shiro, and that was what Shiro needed. Someone who didn’t need him.

Seconds ticked on into minutes, and neither moved. After a while the cadet even seemed to relax, leaning back to rest on his palms and tracing the constellations with weary eyes. The brisk air had helped clear some of the mess of Shiro’s mind and he took a deep breath, feeling refreshed. His watch beeped and 0300 flashed on the interface when Shiro tilted his wrist. Deciding he’d stepped away long enough, Shiro turned on his heel and began to draw back to the door. He heard Kogane shift to follow his movements.

“You’re not going to yell at me, or drag me back downstairs?” The kid called after him. His voice was still hushed, a soft rasp rivaled by the breeze. Shiro pulled open the door and was annoyed to find that one of the upper hinges creaked.

“No.” He didn’t try to explain what he couldn’t even explain to himself. Kogane looked just as puzzled.

“Why did you come up here?”

Shiro gazed out at the stars, flickering so far away from them and this insignificant moment, and felt sure in his honesty. “Fresh air helps me think.”

Shiro worried for a moment that Kogane might think that he was mocking their first encounter, but the cadet just stared at him contemplatively as if Shiro was an equation he hadn’t yet solved. It was nice, having someone not look at him like he had all the answers. He wondered if Kogane knew he was as clueless as everyone else at the Garrison. If he knew that Shiro had been scared of the dark until he was thirteen and that he absolutely hated spiders and that he cried at movies with dogs. He wondered what rumor about himself he had just dispelled to make Kogane look at him so curiously.

He tapped the door once with his palm and smiled. “Get some rest, cadet.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't tell me that Matt and Shiro wouldn't have been best friends.
> 
> Anyone who reads this garbage; thanks for indulging me.
> 
> listening; [https:// 8tracks.com/shuuban/i-loved-and-i-loved]
> 
> come scream at me on Twitter @grumpygamernisa

Shiro celebrated completing Iverson’s assignments the next morning by finding a quiet corner in the stacks and lounging across one of the chairs after his morning run. His usual haunts were overrun with starry-eyed underclassman while the sun was up, and he equally tried to avoid the instructor’s longue although he’d been given clearance, so he kept himself well hidden in a section of the library on early Russian flight for about an hour of peace.

“Well, good morning, _sir_. Aren’t you looking well rested.” Matt popped around the corner like he was spring-loaded, and Shiro quietly wondered if he had always been a morning person. He then noticed Matt was carrying two steaming cups and decided it didn’t matter because he loved him regardless.

“I actually got some sleep last night. Don’t worry, Iverson is giving another quiz this Thursday and Friday to the year one sections, so your regularly scheduled sleep-deprived-and-unshaven Shiro will return shortly.”

Shiro made a childish grabbing motion at one of the cups and Matt indulged him, passing the beverage with a small laugh before collapsing in his own chair.  
“So, Saturday.” Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Ugh, don’t make me do things. I’m so tired of doing things.” Shiro dramatically threw his head back against the armrest he was leaning against. Matt rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his own coffee. He almost immediately spit it back in the cup, tongue burnt.

“What, not even the lure of alcohol and cute bar patrons can sway you?” He asked, fanning at his mouth.

Shiro closed his eyes and sighed theatrically with one arm across his face. “Perhaps a younger Shiro, my friend. But I am worn and weary, time marches on and I feel myself wither beneath its press – “

“Oh stop waxing poetic,” Matt snorted and cut him short. “Fine, you old coot, we’ll just drink at my place. Old Shiro is no fun.”

Shiro shifted into an upright position, battle won, and grinned at Matt from behind the lip of his cup. He made to take a sip of the boiling coffee in hopes that it would wake him up for his class at 0900 but he caught a glimpse of a dark-haired student entering the 3rd floor stacks a short distance away and it gave him pause. Every fiber of his being halted as he fought to puzzle out why he recognized the boy. Matt looked concerned as Shiro froze, following the line of his eyes just over his shoulder and turning to find the end point.  
The student had trailed over to a nearby bookshelf, so focused on the book spines he was scanning that he didn’t even notice Shiro or Matt sitting only ten feet away. It was the view of the cadet’s profile that finally lit the lightbulb. 

“Kogane?” Shiro managed, completely mesmerized, as if Keith had only been an apparition before now.

The cadet jumped, skittish, and his gaze was practically acidic in defense as he sought out who spoke. His eyes landed on Matt first then slid to Shiro’s own confused face. There was a heartbeat, maybe two, before Kogane’s eyebrows shot up and his tense expression melted into first soft recognition, and then mild panic. Perhaps he too had thought Shiro had been a ghost.

Keith opened and closed his mouth a few times, beginning to speak and then halting himself. Shiro’s mind was on a loop of ‘ _he looks different in daylight_ ’ and had yet to realize that he was staring the boy down in what one might consider an intimidating manner.

“You two know each other?” Matt ventured. He sounded hesitant. Keith eyed Shiro as the question fell. Shiro was sure Keith was waiting for him to divulge Keith’s rule-breaking tendencies, and simply smiled as Matt gave him a curious look.

“We’ve bumped into each other a few times.” Shiro explained easily. Matt pressed his lips into a tight, dubious line, but Shiro continued to hold his disarming smile. Keith seemed to almost relax as Shiro glazed over their late-night meeting. “Actually, cadet Kogane is one of the candidates for the mentorship Cassic offered me.”

Both Matt and Keith yelped “What?” but while Matt looked betrayed at only now receiving this information from his closest friend, Keith looked properly horrified.

“You didn’t tell me Cassic offered you a mentorship!” Matt gestured wildly, looking equal parts annoyed with Shiro’s secrecy and excited for the prospect. 

“Haven’t had the time. Iverson’s been shoved up my ass.” Shiro lifted his coffee to his lips and pretended not to see Keith startle. He remembered the cadet’s defensiveness from their first encounter well enough to be sure that he’d be getting an earful for springing a mentorship on him the next time they meet.

When did he start planning to meet the cadet, Shiro wondered with his own vague, untethered panic.

He pretended to glance at the watch on his left wrist, groaning in fake annoyance. “I need to head to astrophysics. Professor Lumet is strict about being late.” He grabbed his bag from where he’d stuffed it behind his chair and pulled the cross-body strap over his head.

Matt subtly glanced at his own watch before turning his suspicious gaze back to Shiro. He knew Shiro’s class didn’t start for another forty-five minutes, but he seemed to read the atmosphere well enough to know to keep his mouth shut.

“Dinner at your place tonight?” Matt asked lightly, leaning his elbows on his knees. Shiro knew “dinner” to be Matt-code for “ _you’re hiding shit from me and we’re going to talk about it._ ” He probably should have felt bad, but he was anxious enough about Kogane that his guilt was put on back-burner.

“Sure.” Shiro stopped level with Keith where he was still frozen by the bookshelf, white-faced and thunderous. “See you around, cadet.”

Keith stormed off further into the stacks before Shiro even made it to the stairwell. The nice thing about Matt was Shiro knew when he’d be jumped for information. He knew the codes and had memorized the patterns. Keith was a whole new game.

-

Shiro had settled himself into a nook of his usual lounge as the sun began to set. The area was soaked in orange, beautiful and comfortably settled with only two other cadets sitting on the far side of the room quietly cycling through flashcards. Matt had texted him earlier, reminding him he’d be over around 1900 for dinner, and Shiro thought he’d use the few hours between his last class and meeting his friend to review notes for his own test in atmospheric evaluations later this week.

He propped his feet up on the empty chair opposite him at the corner table and ran through his tables of values element by element, memorizing toxicity levels and chemical reactions. He truly didn’t expect it when the chair under his feet was ripped away, leaving his boots to drop to the tile with a dull thud.

He startled with a hard jerk when his feet met the floor, almost dropping his notes before he noticed Keith standing opposite of him, hand on the chair he had just pulled away. The cadet’s expression was unreadable, but definitely somewhere in the negatives.

Shiro cast a cautious glance around the room, but the other two cadets in the corner were packing to leave and Keith only had his eyes trained on him. “Yes?” He asked with obvious uncertainty. 

“What the hell were you talking about earlier?” Keith demanded, all bite. He was defensive and looked ready to bloody his knuckles at any moment. Shiro quietly noted that such a blaze was befitting him.

“Huh? Do you mean the thing about the mentorship?”

“No, one of the other hundreds of conversations we’ve had today,” Keith snapped. But there was no real bite to that one, just impatience. Shiro could feel the nerves radiating off the kid. He gestured to the seat Keith held but the cadet seemed to prefer standing. He probably felt it gave him an advantage.

“Cassic wants me to mentor a cadet.” Shiro shrugged. “Not much else to it.”

“Why me?” Keith ground out, suddenly looking pained. “What did I do?”

That one stumped Shiro for a second. There was a beat of silence as Shiro wracked his brain to connect Keith’s question to some bit of information he might have held, but he ultimately came up empty handed. “Um. Nothing?”

“I’m passing all my classes. I keep to myself. Is it because I snuck out? I didn’t even leave the grounds. And if the Commander knows then you told them –” Keith accused. He was going a mile a minute and Shiro suddenly felt overwhelmed. Shiro prided himself on his control – both his own and his ability to command the situations he found himself in – yet Keith always managed to leave him scrambling to find a foothold.

“I’m so confused. Hold on,” Shiro started, cutting Keith short with his palm raised to halt him. The cadet’s grip on the chair was white-knuckled. He was still standing, strung tight as bow, but he fell silent and watched Shiro expectantly. “What are you talking about?”

Keith shook his head slightly. He looked upset, like a child who knew he was about to be punished for an act he did not commit. Shiro could see the scared recruit beneath all the angry bravado. “Only cadets who are on the brink of getting kicked out get assigned mentors.”

Shiro himself almost panicked as he realized which cliff Keith’s train of thought had driven off. “No, no – this is different. The Commander is testing me, not the cadet. They want me to prove that I can be a leader or some shit.” Shiro ran a hand through his hair, feeling the fuzz of his undercut down to the back of his neck and trying to keep his own frustrations at bay. “I only said you were a candidate to keep my friend from asking more about how we knew each other. Matt wouldn’t care that you snuck out – probably would encourage it, honestly, knowing him—but,” Shiro ended his rambling and held his hands out helplessly, hoping Keith would drop the attack.

Keith closed his eyes, breathing so deeply that Shiro could watch his chest swell beneath his uniform with it, then exhaled as he dropped heavily into the seat he had stolen. “I’m not in trouble,” he said quietly, eyes still closed, as if trying to calm himself.

“No, at least not with me. Iverson never mentioned you when he gave me Cassic’s offer. Though…” Shiro trailed off, remembering how quickly the cadet had come to his mind in Iverson’s office. Cadet Kogane was a whirlwind, powerful and strange in the way he pulled Shiro in.

“What?” Keith snapped, eyes sharp. It was probably the wrong time to note that the cadet’s eyes weren’t dark like Shiro had thought in the shadows of the rooftop – rather, a blue so deep and cosmic it was nearly violet. He almost forgot himself in their fire and had to tear himself away. He’d compartmentalize that weakness for later assessment and panic.  
“Iverson said I might be allowed to choose who I want to mentor. I thought about asking you.” Shiro spun the pen still in his hand, ran the heel of his boot along the grout of the tile under them – anything to stop focusing so plainly on the cadet’s surprised expression as he worked through the offer Shiro had laid out.

The sharpness of his features hadn’t just been a trick of the moonlight, Shiro also noticed, but he was handsome with his rough edges. He was captivating with how he squared his shoulders, in how Shiro could watch the rise and fall of his thoughts with the furrow of his dark brows.

“Why?” He demanded. Something inside Shiro was pleased the cadet hadn’t rejected him outright. Once again, there was a right answer to be found, but this time Shiro wasn’t stumbling through on exhaustion. Keith’s own ferocity lit Shiro’s need to venture, and he didn’t shy away from the cadet’s challenging gaze. 

_Say the right thing and I’m yours_ , it said. 

“Because you look at the sky like you’re in love,” He said, almost a whisper, almost in reverence of the boy seated across from him. The sun was sinking fast on the horizon outside the window, and the room was fading to a deep violet. Shiro leaned back in his seat. Keith’s expression hadn’t changed, and for some reason that made Shiro decide on him more firmly. “There’s a lot of potential in you.”

One beat, two. Shiro’s heart was loud. Keith must have heard it. He made to stand, and Shiro felt like he was losing a flame while navigating the dark.

“Think about it.”

Shiro wished he could have read Keith’s expression. He wished he hadn’t sounded like he was begging.

-

Matt always walked in like he owned the goddamn place. Which was how he found Shiro laying spread-eagle across his bunk in gym shorts and trying to toss pieces of popcorn into his mouth. Matt was carrying an actual tray of food from the cafeteria and didn’t look surprised at Shiro’s antics.

“So.” Matt started, kicking the door shut behind him. Another piece of popcorn hit Shiro in the forehead and fell dejectedly to the floor. He’d clean that up later, he decided.  
“What.” Shiro managed without closing his mouth. Another piece lost to the war.

“Who was that cadet in the library today?” Matt settled himself on the floor with his plate of Garrison approved nutrition. Shiro barely contained his frustrated groan.

He was still wallowing in self-pity, knowing Keith would probably go tell him to fuck himself. He reasoned that someone with Keith’s natural fire would’ve jumped headfirst if they’d wanted the offer, no backward glances. He hadn’t puzzled out yet why he was so dead set on Keith being his cadet for the assignment. He was temperamental, flighty, and obviously didn’t trust Shiro. Though they didn’t have much to base any kind of trust on.

But something in Keith’s expression as he traced the constellations and melted against the sky tugged at Shiro’s heartstrings in a way he hadn’t felt since he first enlisted. It was a small tug, but it was there, and after years of trudging through his daily life on autopilot it was enough to send the senior cadet reeling for more.

He knew he’d follow this trail until it led to a dead-end. Or until Keith stabbed him to death out of annoyance. Whichever came first, he supposed.

“Told you, just a cadet I bumped into a few times.” Shiro fished for his bag of popcorn to avoid Matt’s look of ‘ _yeah, sure_.’

“Why’d you bolt, then? Last time I saw you run from someone that fast was when we ran into your ex at New Years in town.”

Shiro turned his head and pointed at his best friend with a piece of unsalted popcorn. “First of all, I didn’t _run_ from her. I calmly suggested we grab Thomas and move to another bar, and you agreed! Second, I just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t seem to be much of a people person and we’ve only met alone a couple times.” Shiro side-eyed Matt, judging. “And you’re a lot to spring on someone, nervous cadet or not.”

“First of all, I resent that. I’m a delight. Second, you’re not sleeping with him, are you?”

Shiro choked on a piece of popcorn and shot bolt upright. He couldn’t hide the shock from his face at that one. Matt looked like he thought it was a reasonable question, and gave Shiro a chance to cough out a response.

“What? No!”

Matt held his hands out defensively, dropping rice on Shiro’s floor in the process, but the senior cadet was too distracted to be irritated at the mess. “I’m just asking! You’ve gotta admit, saying that you’ve met him alone a couple times and then looking like you shit yourself when you see him in the library? It looks kind of weird! And it’s not like he’d be the first cadet to try to climb you like a tree, if that was the case.”

“It’s not anything like that! I just think the kid could benefit from having someone look after him. He’s got a lot of drive but he’s a bit… wild.”

Matt took a large bite of something green and probably overcooked from his plate. “Totally your type.”

“I don’t have a type!” Shiro crossed his arms, trying to look angry with his friend’s accusations, but he knew there was some basis for Matt’s assessment. His ears felt warm.

“And there’s the defensiveness.”

“You’re the worst friend.”

“I’m practically your only friend. You dug your own grave, buddy.”

The topic diverged to less embarrassing ones but Shiro was still stuck wondering about how his interactions with Keith looked from the outside. He kept asserting to himself that he didn’t have a skeevy end-game, but he still couldn’t will the red from his face hours later after Matt had returned to his own room. He lay there in the safety of the dark of his bunk, and let his thoughts wander to how nice the cadet’s violet eyes had looked in the deep reds of sunset.

-

The classroom had been empty, key grammar being _had been_. Shiro was busying himself with organizing notes Iverson had scrawled for his next section, doing his best to sync them to the slides he had been preparing on the monitor at the front of the lecture hall. Any other day he probably would have heard the heavy steps of the cadet’s boots in the pin-drop silence, but Iverson’s handwriting was atrocious and he was moving information between slides in frustration as he realized the order had been changed and he was just so fucking annoyed – 

“You say you’re not an instructor, but I swear I see you do more work than all the teachers in this place combined.”

Shiro jumped, slamming his elbow into the desk – he was getting real damn sick of people startling him this week. He whirled and found Keith leaning on his elbows against the other end of the long instructor’s desk, and just like that Shiro’s anger melted like a planet too close to a star that burned too bright. 

Keith was eyeing the monitor, gazing skimming what Shiro had written, and Shiro feigned annoyance as a reason to turn away. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

There was no malice.

“I wasn’t sneaking, you’re just unobservant.”

He wasn’t smug, just stating it like a fact. He wouldn’t play along with Shiro’s attempts to distance himself. Shiro shifted his weight nervously, trying to focus on the task at hand. But all he could feel was Keith’s presence mere feet behind him, patient in the moment, as the keyboard under Shiro’s fingers turned phantom in his anxiousness. What was he doing again? Wait, that was the wrong line – 

“I thought about your offer. For the mentorship.”

Shiro paused, glancing at Keith from over his shoulder. Their eyes didn’t meet, but Shiro supposed that was best as all his anxieties came to a head and his heart rate soared higher than any Garrison plane.

“Yeah?” He tried casually. “Decide anything?”

Keith shrugged, and Shiro was sure he could see through the cadet’s nonchalance for what it truly was. He didn’t want to concede. Accepting would be a defeat to someone who maybe wasn’t good at reaching out to others. There was barbed wire, but the fencing was starting to crumble.

“You’d be doing me a favor, you know,” Shiro told him. Keith eyed him curiously till he continued. “I need this assignment. It came down from the upper Brass. They want to graduate me early, but they can’t do it without observing me. Basically, I need you.”

“You don’t need me. There’s hundreds of other cadets on this base that would fight to the death to work with you, Golden Boy.”

Shiro chose to ignore the biting nickname. He knew Keith had to have heard all the gossip and rumors, but hearing Keith buy into it made him want to prove him wrong. He wanted to take Keith by the shoulders, to beg him to look past Shiro's uniform and the badge on his chest, to really _look at him_ \-- 

“But they’re not you.”

It was Keith’s turn to startle, ears red and eyes wide. Shiro was prepared to bear his own beating heart on this table if it meant Keith would understand. Understand the spark in his own eyes when he was looking at the stars, and how it breathed what felt like the beginnings of life again into Shiro. Understand how his tempest created a gravitational pull that Shiro had no intention of fighting.

Keith’s expression was a storm, fighting for logic and reason and direction. He seemed torn, confused. But his eyes were clear when he nodded at Shiro. “Okay,” he said, so softly that had they been on the roof the desert winds would have ripped it away.

Shiro splayed the fingers of one hand over Iverson’s notes, chest rising and falling as their eyes met for the first time since Keith had walked in. “Okay,” he agreed.

-

“Good work,” Iverson congratulated gruffly as Shiro handed in the latest stack of quizzes for Flight Theory. He eyed some of the lower scores near the top of the pile, sighing to himself. “These damn kids.”

“There’s been quite a bit of improvement since the beginning of the quarter,” Shiro supplied positively. Iverson took that for what it was, setting the papers to the side and running a hand over his face. For a moment, Iverson truly looked his age – worn and tired with all his usual commanding presence drained from him in exhaustion.

“Thank you, Shirogane. You’re dismissed, enjoy the weekend.”

“Actually, sir,” Shiro’s hand tightened on the shoulder strap of his bag. He stood a little straighter as Iverson raised his head to look at him, expression curious. “Could I speak with you about Cassic’s mentorship?”

“Second thoughts?”

“No, actually – if Commander Cassic is willing to allow me to choose the cadet I work with, I have a suggestion.”

Iverson rested his elbows on his desk, resting his chin on his knuckles. He looked thoughtful, and Shiro took it as a positive sign. “I’m sure Cassic could be amenable. Who did you have in mind?”

“Cadet Kogane, Keith.”


End file.
